jaw with displeasure.
'Yes?' Gerard said, raising an eyebrow.
'Nothing, sir,' Blair said unhappily. Meanwhile, the head gnome had rejoined the others and the debate had resumed noisily. Gerard ground his own teeth at the cacophony. Gnomes were worse than the town council. He headed for the door.
'And where will you be?' Blair asked. Then, when Gerard spun around, the sergeant added petulantly, 'In case anyone should come looking for you. Sir.'
'I'll be at the inn,' Gerard said, softening the blow by adding, 'I'll try and send Kaleen over with some, er, grub.'
It had turned full dark outside. The hubbub that enveloped Solace during the day had quieted somewhat, although the sounds of music were now added to the mix that fell upon the ear. Gerard picked out the notes of a viol playing somewhere with mournful solemnity, while elsewhere a piper and fiddle wove a spritely tune. Laughter spilled from two or three of the arboreal houses as parties got under way, and small clusters of well-dressed townsfolk strolled along the streets and bridge-walks, enjoying the balmy night air.
Smells of cooking also wafted on the air, reminding Gerard that he hadn't eaten for several hours. The aroma of a roast swan from one house played upon his appetite. He hurried faster toward the inn, his stomach growling in anticipation of some tasty-but mild! — dish for his supper.
'Sheriff!' someone called. 'Oh, Sheriff!'
Reluctantly, Gerard paused, allowing a huffing Lady Drebble to catch up with him. Gerard nodded a greeting.
'I wish to register a complaint,' Lady Drebble said, panting as she came abreast of him. 'A most serious and formal complaint.'
'And whom or what do you wish to complain about?' Gerard asked when she had paused at length without continuing.
'Why, my neighbor, Goodwife Gottlief, of course.'
'Ah,' Gerard said, still waiting to be enlightened. 'And what exactly has Goodwife Gottlief done?'
'Nothing. She's done absolutely nothing, and that's the problem.'
'Lady Drebble, I'm afraid you're going to have to explain.' When she gave him a look of scathing disdain, Gerard hastened to add, 'Remember that I'm new to the community. I'm not aware of whatever history of difficulty might exist between you and Goodwife Gottlief.'
'Of course,' Lady Drebble said, instantly mollified and happy for the excuse to tell her story. 'Well, it all began when I first moved to Solace. Right from the start, Goodwife Gottlief was jealous of my status, you know. She likes to take on airs, pretending she is better than she is, while I have never been anything but gracious to those beneath my station. Anyway, as I say, Goodwife Gottlief resented my rightfully displacing her in Solace society…'
Gerard listened with as much patience as he could muster while Lady Drebble recited a lengthy history of wrongs and slights she had endured from the ungrateful Goodwife Gottlief.
'But what exactly is the problem now?' he was finally obliged to interject when Lady Drebble chanced to pause for breath. It was extraordinary how long she seemed able to talk on a single lungful of air, he reflected.
'Why, she didn't even acknowledge me when I went out today, although I purposely passed right in front of her garden where she was busy tending her flowers. It's disgraceful! I bid her good morning, as I always do to my social inferiors, never having been one to hold poor breeding or bad upbringing against one, whereupon she merely sniffed and turned the other way. She should be reprimanded severely!'
'Perhaps even put in jail for the night to teach her a lesson,' Gerard added dryly.
'Yes, that's it exactly! I'm so glad you understand the seriousness of her offense.'
'Lady Drebble, perhaps you should set the example and adopt a more conciliatory spirit toward your neighbor.' When Lady Drebble drew herself up to object to this astonishing remark, Gerard hastened to add, more slyly, 'Think how such an approach would bedevil her, as she tried to determine what you were up to.' He winked to underscore his point.
'Oh! Why, yes. True, true. It would drive her to distraction, trying to figure that one out.'
'Exactly.'
Lady Drebble leaned close, placing a conspiratorial hand on his arm. 'Sheriff, you are a genius.' With a swirl of skirts and petticoats, she swept away to put her revenge into effect.
Gerard let out a deep breath and resumed his own course toward dinner.
The inn was crowded, as always. Gerard slid into a seat as an elegantly dressed couple finished their meal and stood up. He saw Kaleen serving tables across the room and settled back to wait for her but was startled when Laura stormed over to him instead. She plunked a heaping platter of Otik's spiced potatoes down in front of him and glared, challenging him to object.
Gerard forced a thin smile. 'Mm,' he managed to murmur.
Laura waited.
Gerard picked up a spoon, thrust it into the pile of potatoes, and drew out a dangerously large mouthful. As Laura continued to watch, he shoveled the spoonful into his mouth. He tried to grin, then chewed slowly under her steadfast gaze. His mouth tingled from the peppery flavor. His stomach was already churning in protest.
Seeing him chew, Laura's expression softened. She smiled and turned away, heading back to her kitchen. When she was a safe distance from his table, Gerard discreetly spat the mouthful out into his napkin and pushed the platter of potatoes aside, his appetite ruined. He glanced around the room to see if anyone had noticed his indiscretion. A group of swarthy men in one corner of the room caught his attention. He squinted, trying to see them better, but their cloaks and cowls obscured their faces. One, however, looked familiar; Gerard knew he had seen the cloaked man before, but for the life of him he couldn't remember where.
Then his eyes came to rest on Kaleen and he froze. She was glowering at him from across the room, having apparently witnessed him spitting out the potatoes. Gerard withered under her condemnatory gaze. Reluctantly, he drew the platter of potatoes toward him again and began nibbling on tiny spoonfuls, swallowing with difficulty over the increasingly violent objections of his digestive tract. Presently, the seats in Gerard's immediate vicinity emptied as people sniffed the air and chose to move elsewhere.
Gerard felt himself flush with embarrassment as he shoveled in another mouthful of the spiced potatoes.
CHAPTER 8
The shrill voice wafted into Gerard's room with the cool, predawn breeze. 'Three tendays after his death, Sheriff Joyner's murderer has yet to be found.'
Gerard bolted upright, cracking his head on the low ceiling that angled sharply across the room. The room was still dark; the sky outside showed the scarcest gray.
'Municipal officials assure this crier that all avenues are being explored and the killer will eventually be brought to justice.'
It was a high, piercing voice Gerard almost recognized. He rubbed his head where he had banged it, listening more closely.
'To date, however, no progress has been made and the murderer remains at large.'
A kender's voice. That blasted kender who had the job of town crier. What had Palin said his name was? Tangleknot? Tanglefoot? Tangletoe, that was it. Tangletoe Something.
'In other news about town, the two-headed chicken mentioned yesterday turned out to be a pair of chicks standing very close together. Sorry for that. However, I have been assured that one of Mistress Corinne Nestor's laying hens produces only double-yolked eggs.'
Now he had it: Tangletoe Snakeweed!
'Those eggs are currently for sale in the town market. Better get there fast, however, as Mistress Nestor says they're bound to go quickly.'
